Hello?
by Curious Rebel
Summary: Ethan won't answer Cal's calls and Cal is regretting the choices he made more than ever.
1. Unanswered Calls

_Took me forever to write this. Hope you enjoy._

* * *

{ Cal }

"Ethan? Ethan, please! Just pick up the phone, will you?" I half-sob, my breath coming in frustrated little gasps," Please, I want to talk to you - properly. I want to _see_ you. I want to know you're okay. That's stupid, I _know_ you're not okay. But that's exactly why I have to see you! Please, Ethan. Please don't leave me."

The twenty-eighth voicemail. Pleading, begging, shouting, screaming, whispering, promising, hoping, wishing – I've tried it all. What more can I do?

I peel the sticky-with-salt-water-that-may-or-may-not-be-from-my-eyes phone from my cheek and wipe the screen with my sleeve. The action only manages to smear the tears across the screen, leaving it a mess.

Another loud sob rattles through me as I stare at the un-relenting darkness of the mobile screen - because it all hurts, it all hurts so much. I want Ethan to be here, to reassure me; for me to reassure him; for us to reassure eachother. I don't know where he is, and it scares me.

Is there someone who'll help him if he needs it?

How do I know he's okay?

I collapse against the kitchen work-top, my legs refusing to hold my weight. My back slides down the sleek surface, lowering me to the floor. The joints in my knees crack and complain as they are relieved of duty. I gulp as my mind races with a million and one thoughts of my brother. One minute he's a toddler running after me; the next he's a grown man being rolled into the hospital after being involved in a car crash that took the life of a paramedic; a completely made up picture of him dozing in the Australian sun; the feeling of his arms around me as he tells me I'm not alone; the look of anger on his face as I tell him that I stole his money; his dissapointment when he didn't get the present he wanted for Christmas when he was six; the look on his face when he found it later in the hall; the thought of him running towards me, excited to see me after a long day at school, telling me I'm the best brother ever; the thought of him stalking away from me, after telling me that he's no longer my brother. I stop and shiver - the thought of never seeing him again.

What do I do? What if he's thinking about moving away? He wouldn't, surely, not with all this to sort out. My stomach twists as I think of all the times I've left him in the lurch. Maybe he's decided he's had enough and is going to do the same. Although it would hurt, I can't say I would blame him. The twist in my stomach tightens as I wonder if he'd leave me. I've never been so afraid at the thought of losing someone. Not Taylor, not Katya, not baby Matilda, not even Mum. Me and Ethan have been through so much together, that I can't handle the idea of not being able to see him, not being able to talk to him, not being able to love him a big brother _should_ love his baby brother.

More tears rise and fall as I wonder if he'll ever _want_ to be my baby brother again.

* * *

When I've finally got my crying back under control, I try ringing again. The dialling tone drums boringly, until it finally lets up to Ethan's cheery voicemail.

"Hi, you've reached Dr. Ethan Hardy. I'm afraid I can't come to the phone right now, but leave a meessage and I'll get back to you."

"Ethan. I know you don't want to talk. To be honest, this isn't something I want to talk about either. But we have to. You know we do." I pause," It's going to be okay, Nibbles. I promise."

I put the phone down, staring into the distance outside of the window. I can see the hospital from here. The hospital where I work with my brother.

 _"I'm not your brother anymore."_

He hates me. He really does.

Some deluded part of me had honesty-to-godly believed that when I told Ethan the truth, he would forgive me for hiding it. I had hardly dared to think it. That's just a dream, now. A stupid idiotic dream.

Ethan may talk to me again, he may help me to sort things out, he may even come to consider Emilie as family. But I don't know if he'll ever love me again. Although part of me wants to pull away from him, to show him that two can play that game, I can't. I can't stop myself from loving Ethan.

* * *

I move into the living room half an hour later and flop exhaustedly onto the settee. My face contorts into a wince at the sensation of my bitten nails catching the material of my jeans. Me and Ethan had always practised the bad habit of nail biting. Dad always blamed me for Ethan doing it, claiming I was a bad influence – maybe he was right. I always assumed we got it from Mum – Matilda – but, obviously not.

I wish Ethan would just pick the phone up. I can imagine our conversation. Or my side, at least. I had it all planned out in my head. I needed to apologize first and foremost. Then I'd explain exactly what happened and I'd reassure him if he needed reassuring. Beg him to come home, if I had to.

The flat seems colder lately. It's like there's constantly an empty space in whatever I do. I don't have Ethan to wake me if I need waking. I don't have to think about whether or not there is enough cereal in the packet for two in the morning. I don't have him to nag me about my driving on the way to work. I don't have him to worry about if he happens to be little late coming back from his shift without me on a Wednesday. I don't have to wait for him to come home to eat my tea. I don't have him to talk to, which is the thing I miss the most. Talking to Ethan doesn't feel like talking to anyone else. Mum always said we seemed to speak in our own language, complete with inside jokes that only we could understand. I actually look forward to going into work nowadays, which makes a change. Ethan may be icy with me and refuse to talk to me, but at least I know he's safe and healthy, if he can't be happy.

That's it. I'm calling him again. My attempt seems to be going pretty much the same as the others until the last ring. Which is when I hear it: a click as the phone is picked up.

"Hello?"

* * *

 _So, who do you think it is? Ethan? ED Staff Member? Stranger?_

 _No, seriously, who do you think it is? I have some half baked ideas about it being Ethan or a stranger, but who do you guys think it should be?_


	2. Answered Prayers

**Okay. I am such an idiot. I wrote this _ages_ ago. I wrote it really late at night, telling myself I would upload it in the morning. Then when I woke up, I somehow manage to disillusion myself into believing I had uploaded it the night before. I only just realised my mistake. Oops.**

 **Thank you to all who left reviews, followed and favourited - 20BlueRoses, xMissWhitneyBexx, Becs2202, TVObssessedGirl28, CBloom2, tracys dream, sweeet-as-honey, Charlie-bear-smith, 8IceMoon8, Lcasualty95, Phoebe lane, Princess10, TheAtomicCheesepuff, TheWiinterSoldier and xEmmaPevensiePendragonx. ( And three guest reviews ).**

 **P.S. Sorry about how short this chapter is.**

 **P.P.S. Happy Birthday to LittleBritishPerson!**

* * *

{ Cal }

"Hello…?" I question, uncertain. I did call _Ethan_ , didn't I?

"Hello, sir. I, um, I found this phone on the street."

"You _found_ it on the _street_?"

"Y-yes." The un-familiar voice stutters," Sorry, I thought I should answer. You're the In-Case of Emergency contact and thought that- well, I thought it might be important."

"Yeah. No! It's not important, per se. Sorry, I'm a little confused, where are you?"

"R-Rathmore Street."

"Right." I suck my teeth, worried," Can you wait there for me?"

"Well I- Y-yes. I suppose so."

"Thanks."

* * *

"And you didn't see him? At all?" I question, becoming increasingly worried about my little brother's safety and mental health.

The man shakes his head, looking uncomfortable under by interrogating gaze.

"Yeah. Thanks anyway." I say, almost dismissively. The nervous man scurries away, not looking back even once.

I sigh. How am I ever going to get a hold of Ethan if he doesn't have a phone? I don't ever see him at work, considering the fact that he had Mrs. Beauchamp put us on alternating rostas and shifts.

Maybe-?

Maybe Charlie would talk to him for me. Charlie knows how important it is to me that Ethan is safe and sound of mind.

I bite my lip, worrying more, as I set of towards Holby City Hospital.

* * *

"Dr. Knight?" I wheel round, hearing the familiar clack of heels that always accompany the Voice of Doom.

"Mrs. Beauchamp." I answer, facing her with my most charming smile pasted on.

"Are you injured?" She asks, not sounding particularly concerned.

"No…?"

"And I know you're not on shift – strange that you can never show up when you _are_ – so what are you doing gracing us with your presence?" The slight sneer that her face holds makes me bite back a joke abuot not being able to stay away from the 'enticingly warm environment of the ED' and answer as Ethan would – sensibly.

"I'm just looking for Ethan."

"Ah. I assume he hasn't told you then?"

Fear and doubt grips my insides,

"Told me what?"

* * *

"Three weeks holiday!" I vent, taping my fingers on the desk purposely to annoy Noel.

"Yes, for the tenth time, three week's holiday." He answers, attempting to go back to work.

"Three weeks and he didn't tell you where he was staying?" I press.

Noel looks nervous and shifts to the other end of the desk.

"Of course he didn't. Why would he?"

I remember the way Connie almost bounced away ten minutes prior, as if holding a secret she would never tell me, no matter how much I begged.

A sly grin creeps onto my face as I remember something that I was told when I took the permanent position working here.

"Maybe because this hospital has a policy to know a staff members current place of residence." I say, bubbling with excitement at the revelation.

Noel sighs.

"Come on, Noel. He is my brother."

* * *

I race up the stairs in the plush Holby Grande Hotel – or plush for Holby, anyway, the hotel only had three stars – feeling like a knight finally coming to a real rescue.

Only I knew it wasn't true. I knew Ethan would probably slam the door in my face the moment he saw me, yet I couldn't help but hold hope.

Tears swell in my eyes as I stop outside Room 36, my brother's room.

I take a deep breath. I raise my arm. I wait a second.

Then I tentatively knock on the door.

Silence. The tears swell higher-

Had this whole thing been for nothing?

Then I hear it. Hear _him_. Just a lonely, tired voice from inside.

"Hello?"


End file.
